


Pour Some Sugar On Me

by TGP



Series: Eyesight [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Experimentation, F/M, Genderbending, Genderqueer!Harry, Possibly unfortunate decisions, messy sex, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 18:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TGP/pseuds/TGP
Summary: Hermione's present doesn't go over as well as she'd hoped. At least not before Harry's thought about it a while.





	Pour Some Sugar On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Uh. This is absolutely just sex. It's just a lot of sex. It is a worrying amount of very enthusiastic sex.
> 
> You do not have to read it; there is not really anything of timeline plot significance here if that makes you uncomfortable so feel free to skip!

“You _know_ I don’t have a problem with my body,” Harry says immediately, his mouth pinched with offence. “I don’t need-”

“I know,” Hermione assures him quickly. “I know you’re fine with it. I just thought-”

“Are _you_ fine with it?”

“Of course I am! Have I ever seemed to _not_ enjoy you just the way you are? Have _any_ of us?”

Harry’s got that mulish look on his face but Hermione’s had years of practice in getting past Harry’s natural stubbornness. She is not about to back down now when this could be so good for him.

“Look,” she says, setting the innocuous little bottle down on the kitchen cabinet because holding it is probably something he could very easily take as a threat. “I like your body. I like looking at you and touching you and- and having _sex_ with you, and I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want! I just wanted to give you the option because I thought it might be nice for you to _have_ it. If you wanted it.”

Harry looks from her to the bottle like it’s going to explode. She watches the way his weight shifts from one foot to the other and back again. He’s at least thinking about it now. That’s all she’d wanted.

“How long?” he asks finally, apprehensive but willing to listen to her. “I knew about the permanent ones already. Is this-”

“No, just a few hours. No discomfort during the changeover, no lingering side effects. I checked over the particulars myself.”

Harry’s still not sure as he turns back to her. “...This is really new.”

“The research is sound.” She’d double checked all of it, read every line of notes from the human trial. There’d been a few side effects in the first trial but that had been corrected in subsequent ones. “It’s just like a very specific, targeted version of a polyjuice potion, except with your own donor sample. The Ministry has already approved it for sale. It’s just not common knowledge yet. You can’t use it _continuously_ or there’s a toxin build up, but… Intermittent use is completely safe.”

His brows furrow tight in thought as he steps over to pluck the bottle up, rolling it in his hands. The consideration isn’t something she’s surprised by. She’s glad she’s already gotten this far and he hasn’t even really gotten cross with her.

“I’m… going to think about it,” he says at last and Hermione beams at him.

“Yes, good, that’s a very good idea,” she says, maybe babbling a little. “You don’t _ever_ have to try it, but… If you wanted.”

“If I wanted,” he agrees. 

The potion ends up leaving her mind after a few days when Harry doesn’t mention it again. Life goes on the way it always had before. Hermione works hard at the Ministry with Draco to champion various causes, Harry and Ron continue doing Auror field work for things that scares the heck out of her, Ginny flies another great game that has her crowing over the fire call.

Hermione’s honestly not expecting anything strange when she comes home after her early day and there is a man in her home she doesn’t know know. Immediately, her wand is out and she starts into a spell before she catches green eyes staring back at her with surprise.

“You-”

“I was just. Trying it,” Harry says and his voice is lower, edged with something he’d never had before. He’s only a little taller, jeans that had originally been spell tailored shorter sitting high on his ankles. His chest, which had never been all that large even after having a child, is flat and firm under his t-shirt. 

Hermione lowers her wand. “Just trying it..”

“Yeah.” He searches her face, growing more and more unsure as a flush rises on his cheeks. “Just, you know. Once.”

“Right,” she says distantly and she’s vaguely aware of tucking her wand back into the holster as she steps forwards and then her hand is in the middle of his chest. He doesn’t object so she runs her hand slowly over him, tracing out shapes she’s not used to him having here. “Oh, Harry. I’m… I’m so proud of you. I always wanted you to have the _choice_.”

He hangs his head a bit and his blush is getting worse even as he slides his arms around her. His hands feel so much bigger and his face is slimmer, his jaw more pronounced, but it’s still Harry. He’s so embarrassed and also pleased and Hermione can’t help but kiss him. That, at least, doesn’t feel too different.

She hadn’t actually _meant_ it to be anything other than a light peck but when Harry urges her lips open, she didn’t stop him. Her body presses tight against him, as open to exploring his different shape as the one she’s familiar with. Harry’s fingers are hot against the small of her back, his other hand sliding lower to run over the curve of her backside. 

“Harry,” she manages against his lips. “Do you-”

“I don’t know if it works,” he says but he’s excited as he hooks his hands under her thighs and jerks her up against him, secured only with his strength and her arms curled round his neck. This isn’t new - Harry could lift _Ron_ if he tried and he regularly toted her or Ginny around at his fancy - but it still feels new when she’s pressed against the solid muscle of his body, uninterrupted by softer flesh at his chest, and has her uttering a surprised laugh. 

“Let’s find out.” She’s embarrassed by her forwardness but the way his eyes glitter, he doesn’t mind at all. She ends up with her back on the wall, his body hot and firm and his mouth a claiming thing. Hermione curls her fingers tight in his hair as she tries to keep up. They don’t stay there long, Harry manhandling her down the hall and he keeps losing his balance when she runs her tongue over the rim of his ear and bites the lobe, sending them bouncing off the walls. 

By the time they reach one of the bedroom, they’re giggling as much as kissing because Harry is _ridiculous_ and Hermione’s pretty sure they knocked over at least four frames on the way. Harry drops her onto the bed with all considerable care and then he’s on her, hands starting to pull at the buttons for her blouse, mouth on her throat and leaving marks she’ll yell at him for later. Hermione arches herself up against him as one of his hands cups over her clothed breast and then she feels-

“Oh,” she says, sliding her hands down his body and the groan that’s surprised out of him when she finds the growing distention in the front of his jeans just about undoes her. “It works.”

Harry laughs only to give a surprised cry when Hermione shoves him over, rolling them across the bed. She ends up on top, straddling his legs and braced with her hands on his chest. He looks good like this, cheeks flushed and red mouth open to let hot breaths escape. His hair is even more of a wild mess than usual and she can’t help but curl her fingers in it tight as she leans down to kiss him again. His hands go to her hips and then slid further back, urging her down as he rocks up and yes, that’s good. That’s so good. 

“How long has it been since you took the potion?” she asks breathlessly, wondering if there’s enough time, if they can-

“About ten minutes before you got home.”

Oh good. Hermione sucks on his lower lip as his hands find their way under her skirt, squeezing the flesh he finds there. It just grounds her against him more but she can’t find it in herself to care. She should really get undressed before any of this gets dirty - there’s drycleaning to consider and that spell is so finicky - but then Harry’s sliding his fingers over the front of her, tracing her mons through her panties. He bypasses the cloth quickly and Hermione presses her face to his shoulder to muffle herself. 

“Oh wow, you’re _wet_ ,” he says with the amused tone that means he’s grinning but she doesn’t look up to confirm it, not when Harry’s rubbing over her outer lips and his thumb keeps brushing over her clit. “You’re… You are _really_ into this. Just- did you think about it?”

She mutters the affirmative and then shudders as he slides a finger into her. 

“What did you think about? What it might feel like to, uh. Sink down on… on my cock?” His voice is soft, not quite confident but it hits the mark anyway as his finger moves in and out of her, not nearly enough to be anything but a tease. “If I.. If I fucked into you fast like Draco does?”

“I-” She can’t answer because he’s got another finger in her and now he’s moving with purpose, curling them to rub just right against her. His thumb presses hard to her clit and her hips move on their own, helping him dive deep into her. He pulls at her panties, sliding them down her thighs as far as he can with her legs spread wide. She reluctantly starts climbing off him to get them the rest of the way off, kicking them off because she is desperate and _ready_. 

“Merlin,” he mutters when she settles back down, shifting to try and get more comfortable even as his fingers go right back to work. She loves his hands. She loves how easily he touches her like this, how good he knows her. “Did you think about… having Ron and me _together?_ ”

And she has. She’s thought a distressing amount about being caught between them, about letting them choose how to have her, letting them use her up entirely. Harry’s breathing is faster against her neck and he kisses her once there before his fingers slide from him. She’s protesting almost immediately but he urges her to move until her thighs bracket his head between them and he’s guiding her to spread wider so he can slide his tongue into her instead. Hermione can’t be quiet, can’t hold it in as his tongue moves over her, into her, as he sucks on her clit in turns. She’s got one hand in his hair to hold him in place and the other gripping the headboard as she grinds her hips into his mouth. 

She doesn’t know how long it takes, hold long he keeps at her with his hand tight at her hip, but she breaks with a shudder and a louder cry. He just keeps his mouth working through the whole time until she’s just giving pathetic little twitches of overstimulation and then he finally relents. He eases her back against his shoulders instead and the firm strength of his hand is so nice. She’s still holding onto the headboard for dear life as she gazes down at him. Harry’s face is a mask of her pleasure and his own and she realizes she hears something familiar, something she knows. She looks back and a harsh breath juts out of her, watching Harry’s nimble, thin fingered hand slide over flesh he’d never had before. He’s beautifully needy, wet at his tip and squeezing himself.

“Hermione,” he groans, twisting his hand over the crown of his shaft and she can’t _not_ help him. The whimper he makes when she crawls off him is absolutely perfect and then she’s pushing his hand away to replace it with her own, her mouth sliding over the tip of him. Harry bites out a cry, hips jerking, and she has to hold him down to keep from choking herself. “ _Hermione_ -”

Oh, and her name sounds so good with his voice all tight and surprised with pleasure. He has no idea how to handle it, the heat of her mouth moving over him, her tongue. He makes tiny, desperate sounds, hands clenching up in the back of her shirt. It’s not much different a reaction when she goes down on him normally and she’s pleased that he hasn’t really changed, even if his equipment has. Harry has always been so ridiculously sensitive, as if no one had touched him before, but he's naturally quiet and they all know they're doing well when they can get him vocalizing. 

Hermione shivers as Harry drags his hand down her back to hike her skirt back up, plunging two fingers back into her. She can barely stand it, moaning around him filling her mouth. She lets herself rock back into his fingers and then takes him as far down as she can manage just to listen to the way his voice goes high and tight. 

“That- _Haahhh,_ _oh shit_. I want to- Hermione _please_. Just- refractory period! I don’t think I can- _Hermione_ ,” Harry whimpers urgently, almost shaking under her, and it takes a few seconds for her to understand why he’s tugging at her and pull off him. Oh. Oh yes, that is a concern the two of them don’t usually have to think about when it’s just them. He keeps curling his fingers inside her, easing her out of post-orgasmic bliss and back into being absolutely ready for him enough so that she doesn’t really mind being taken from her task. She lets him rev her up, giving him some time to settle himself so it won’t end too quickly. He’s pushed himself up again to suck on her clit as his fingers keep driving into her and she thinks very, very seriously about letting him finish her off again. He’d probably enjoy it, something to crow to Ron about later.

Hermione finally pulls away from him with great reluctance so she can shuck the skirt off. She tugs her shirt off for good measure, tossing it aside with her bra too, and then sees the hungry look on Harry’s face as he shifts up to rest against the headboard. He’s quite the picture himself, his t-shirt riding up on his stomach and his jeans half dragged down his hips, his body laid out like a fancy meal. It’s almost indecent that he’s still so clothed when she’s not but it sends the oddest thrill through her. She licks her lips and then slides onto his lap. Harry gasps, grabbing onto her hips hard as she rocks herself against him. His cock is hot and wet from her mouth, firm against her over sensitive lips. She watches his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip and he rolls himself up to her with such sweet need. She tilts her hips just so she can drag her clit along him, send little pleased shivers down her spine. 

“Hermione, you- You look so _good_ like this,” Harry babbles out, catching her mouth in a hard press of his own and she can taste herself on his tongue. 

His hands slide up her body to cup and caress her breasts. It’s like he’s worshiping her and his fingers circle and caress her nipples before he ducks his head to suck one into his mouth. Hermione’s breathing catches, feeling the wet slide of his tongue and then the light scape of his teeth. She cants herself forward, feels the head of him pressed right at her opening, and nearly envelopes him right there, but Harry shudders and groans against her breast, pulling his mouth off her to say, “Wait. Wait, I gotta- I think- _condom._ ”

“I- It’s okay. It’s okay, just pull out later. I want to feel you.” This is not a good decision, fated to end badly, but Hermione absolutely _does not care_.

He makes a noise that almost sounds pained and then he’s kissing her again while his hands go to her hips, gripping so tight to grind her against him. She laughs against his lips, enjoying the eagerness, but she’s eager too. She doesn’t want to wait even a second more. Lifting herself, she reaches between them and takes hold of his shaft, stroking him just to feel him shake. The press of him against her entrance is almost too much and he drops his head against her shoulder, panting the longer she teases him. Slowly, she lets herself start to sink down onto him and it is so _good_ , the press of him within her, stretching herself around him. Harry’s breathing has gone ragged and halting and Hermione curls her fingers over his shoulders as she settles all the way, her thighs pressed firmly over his. 

“Merlin, no wonder Ron can’t stop shagging us,” Harry says with an unsteady laugh she echos, but that just causes him to shift inside her and drags another shaky breath from him. She presses her lips to his neck, letting him get used to the tight, wet heat of her as she adjusts to him. She wants this to last but she’s not sure either of them will. Already, Harry’s hips are making little rolling movements, shifting himself so little inside her that it’s almost a tease. 

“I wonder if he’d sleep with you like this,” she murmurs against his ear and Harry shivers. Hermione’s flushed and not nearly gone enough not to be a little embarrassed by her own gall, but she keeps going anyway. “He can be so prickly about his masculinity, but… I keep thinking… You in me with him in you-”

Harry jerks up abruptly and they both moan. She can’t keep still after that, holding onto him to keep steady as she rocks her hips against him. He drags her down harder, driving himself so deep in her, but he still lets her set the pace. It’s different than having sex with Ron. Ron’s not near as desperately responsive as Harry is. He takes charge, directing it all, and she enjoys his manhandling just fine but the fact that Harry’s let her decide how this would go… He’s perfect. He’s absolutely perfect and she loves him _so much_.

“‘Mione,” he keens into her shoulder, his teeth pressing firmly to her skin after as if trying to censor himself, and she suddenly hopes so badly that it leaves a mark. She hopes she’ll have it for a few days. She clenches around him and he bites harder, not near enough to hurt but enough to bring up red to stay. His hand slides, still gripping her firm and desperate but moving forward, until- His thumb finds her clit and she’s _gone_ , moving on him like a possessed thing as her hands scramble to grab tight in his hair. Her rhythm is gone and all she can do is drive him deep into herself over and over, listen to the harsh rasp of his breath as it matches her frantic pace. He’s stroking her clit just right, not hard enough to risk rubbing her raw and not too soft as to tease, and she’s almost there, she’s so close-

And there it is, warmth and intense, rolling pleasure that runs all the way through her, making her keen and grasp and dragging a muffled whimper from Harry that’s so good, so sweet, and he’s moving in her, legs bent and pressing hard to the bed for leverage as he leans against the headboard. It’s almost painful, the wisps of harsh pleasure rippling from her sore folds, but she doesn’t tell him to stop. She holds on tighter, panting against his ear. 

His movements get even more jerky, more desperate, and when he starts to pull out of her she knows why, she knows what he’s trying to do, but she wants it so _badly._ Instead of letting him, she grips her legs tighter on his hips to keep him from drawing further out, locks him inside her clenching, fluttering walls. 

“Wait,” he says, “wait, I’m gonna- I can’t-”

“I know,” she whispers and then he’s cursing and _gone_. He jerks against her, slamming her down against him to drive him deep as he sobs into her shoulder. She can feel it, warm and wet and wonderful, leaving a piece of himself for her, more with each desperate, shallow thrust he makes. He’s shivery and overloaded even when he stills, clutching to her as everything down to simply _breathing_ shifts him inside her, pushes him further towards near painful overstimulation. 

When she finally shifts enough to pull off him, she drags him down to lay with her and rests against his chest. His arm settles around her, fingers sliding through her hair as Harry stares at the ceiling with a dazed expression on his flushed face. 

“That…” He seems to lose the thread of his thought and goes with, “Ron lasts for _hours_. Is he some kind of _mutant?”_

It shocks a sound that’s some mix of a giggle and a snort from her and then they’re both laughing. They clutch to one another, just so amused and sated and happy. Harry rolls them so he can rest his head on her chest, staring up at her with the sappiest smile on his face. He looks good this way, all lazy with his pretty eyes heavy lidded and his cheeks still flushed.

Hermione’s not sure which of them initiates it but then they’re kissing, slow and deep, and Harry’s fingers brush over the dip of her waist as she slides her tongue along his, just enjoying that she can. It gives her a low lick of interest that she could stoke if she so chose, or if Harry did. She brushes her knuckles along Harry’s cheek and then slides her fingers back into his hair at the base of his neck, tugging with firm pressure. Harry groans as his hand slides further, so very close to her mons. She could get _very_ interested in this very quickly, reaching down to drag her hand down his belly, but Harry breaks off from her, a rueful smile crossing his face. 

“Yeah, no, not yet. Sorry, I was right. About the refractory period.” She snickers and then gasps out as his fingers drop down over her sex anyway, one sliding along the slick mess of her folds. “But I could still eat you out again first. Yeah, I think that’s a good plan.”

She’s not quite entirely recovered from her last orgasm but it still feels good, makes her clench with anticipation. His mouth makes a trail down her chest to catch her nipple between his teeth, pulling just enough to feel. She doesn’t object as his fingers slip into her nice and easy-

“Oh, bugger, I forgot,” Harry says with a blink, drawing his hand free to stare at his own seed on his fingers. “Uh. We should probably clean that up. I- Hell. You don’t think it’ll do anything, do you? I mean… I don’t normally…”

Hermione can’t help but snort as she drags him down again, soothing his unease one kiss at a time. It’s not as if it would be particularly terrible if it _did_ do something. 

“It’s okay. Handle it later,” she says, making him shiver a bit against her, and then directs his hand back down. Harry gets over it pretty quickly, all things considered.

They spend most of the afternoon and evening in bed together. Harry presses up against her back when he fucks her the second time, laying on their sides with his hands kneading into her breasts and his mouth against her neck while she moans and writhes. Even after Harry’s form reverts back to normal, it doesn’t stop Hermione from touching him and taking advantage of Harry’s usual near lack of anything even _approaching_ a refractory period to make it abundantly clear that she’s absolutely thrilled with his body no matter what. It was a nice novelty though, one that’s left her pleasantly sore.

She wonders how hard it would be to convince Ron to play, too. It… might be a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was definitely a thing that happened.


End file.
